


Larger than Lifesize

by bewarethesmirk



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-04
Updated: 2012-05-04
Packaged: 2017-11-04 19:33:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/397415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bewarethesmirk/pseuds/bewarethesmirk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Parvarti enjoys working with her best friend, Lavender, at a high-end fashion designer, except she's sort-of in love with Lavender, who's in love with dating. And then there's Pansy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Larger than Lifesize

**Author's Note:**

  * For [magnetic_pole](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magnetic_pole/gifts).



> This was written for the informal HP femslash exchange for magnetic_pole, who requested Lavender/Parvarti and "teamwork" as her prompt. I do hope you enjoy this, my dear! Thanks to b_hallward for betaing, and woldy for putting this whole thing together! This is the first thing I've written in forever and it was a blast to write. The title is taken from "Lifesize" by A Fine Frenzy.

Parvarti could kill Pansy Parkinson with magic. Easily. But hitting her over the head with a heavy, blunt object would be _so_ much more satisfying. 

"Uh-oh," Lavender said, smirking a bit. Her lips were shining with pink gloss, and it was very distracting. "You have that homicidal look again." 

"Don't I always?" Parvarti stabbed a pin into place on the skirt she was working on, and waved her wand. The skirt – emerald green, high waisted, ruffles on the bottom – floated in the air before her as she hemmed it. 

Lavender had taken a job at a high-end fashion designer firm in London, and later Lavender had convinced Parvarti to join. Luckily the firm targeted witch clientele, so Parvarti didn't have to grapple with a needle. She could wave her wand and Transfigure. If design was Parvarti's great love, fashion was Lavender's, and they worked together to design new products which were then produced by several of the other workers. Not much about the job was easy, and Parvarti was tempted to quit on a near-daily basis. The worst thing about the job was her boss, Pansy Parkinson, who was evil on heels. 

"Parvarti!" The door slammed against the wall, and Parvarti nearly jumped out of her skin. It was a close thing.

 _Think of the Devil and she doth appear_.

"Yes?" she asked, coolly, like she didn't give a shit about Pansy's appearance.

Pansy stormed across the room and planted herself right in front of Parvarti. She plucked the skirt from midair, glanced at it for a second and sniffed in disgust. "This piece is hideous! The ruffles alone!"

"Ruffles are very in this season," Lavender added, and Parvarti silently thanked her.

"According to whom? Plebeians?" Pansy threw the skirt to the floor and Parvarti was forced to look at her. Pansy was immaculate. Of course. Perfectly coifed, short dark hair, dark eyes and red lips. She was wearing a simple black minidress and heels any woman would be mad to walk in. "I am meeting with Jacob tomorrow," she said, slowly, as if explaining to a child of subpar intelligence. "He is a very important client, and I need something amazing to show him. Nothing either of you has made fits that bill, and that hideous rag of a skirt suddenly doesn't."

"But it's almost five," Parvarti said – certainly didn't whine – as she looked at her watch.

Pansy's lips twisted into a satisfied expression. The one that said _My mission in life is torture you_. Parvarti again fantasised about bludgeoning Pansy against the side of her perfectly formed head with a brick. "Good for you, then. The meeting is still fifteen hours away. You have plenty of time to come up with something."

Parvarti knew she looked aghast. It was Thursday; it was almost the end of the week and she was absolutely knackered. Her self-control was ragged and she just needed some sleep and some alcohol, probably not in that order.

"I'll stay and help," Lavender said, shocking Parvarti. Lavender was out of the office every day promptly at 5:00, and a few minutes earlier if she could manage it. Her social calendar was very important, and she usually had one date after another lined up. Parvarti did her best not to inquire. She didn't want to know about the various men who got to see Lavender bare and pliant night after night.

"How sweet," Pansy said. "I don't care who does it. I just want it _done_ by the time I walk into the office tomorrow."

Parvarti opened her mouth to ask what kind of piece Pansy wanted – anything, some sort of clue – but Pansy turned on her very large heel and Apparated.

"Fuck!" Parvarti buried her head in her hands and wondered how the hell she was going to get through it. It might have even been easier without Lavender, because with Lavender here…well. It made things more complicated.

"Don't worry," Lavender said, closer now. Parvarti took a deep breath and put her hands to her sides. She didn't have much of a choice. She needed this job if she ever hoped to work in fashion design again. It was just one all-nighter. 

Lavender put her hands on Parvarti's shoulders, a barely-there touch that sent a shiver down Parvarti's spine. "We'll do this," she said soothingly, her breath against Parvarti's ear. Parvarti gathered her nerve and turned. The bright rays of the setting sun caught Lavender's blonde hair, painting it gold. Parvarti sighed, that perpetual bonedeep _want_ was all too much, especially mingled with the stress, and the perpetual desire to kill her boss.

"Thanks for staying, but you really don't have to – "

"Oh, none of that!" Lavender said and reached for a notebook and a quill from Parvarti's work station. 

"But I will tell you one thing," Lavender said, hand on her hip.

Parvarti smiled. "And what's that?"

"We both think best over martinis."

*

The night should have been absolute misery, but so far it had been a surprising amount of fun.

Parvarti loved working with Lavender, and loved the way the woman's mind worked. She was brilliant, and Parvarti loved creating Lavender's visions. 

Over large, dry martinis they discussed, plotted and scribbled. Eventually, a plan was formulated. They had been back in the studio for many hours and when the clock was hitting three, Parvarti and Lavender were examining their creation while they each clutched a steaming cup of strong tea. They had made a just above the knee pencil skirt in a charcoal grey with a subtle slit on the left thigh. Lavender and Parvarti knew Pansy's weakness for business clothes that could double as sociable, going-out wear. The design played with the limits of each setting, winkingly subversive.

"I think we've got it," Lavender said, satisfied smirk ever in place. She flipped some lip gloss out of her pocket – who wore lip gloss at this hour of the night? - and conveniently caught Parvarti staring.

"You want some?" Lavender asked, holding out the tube.

"Oh, no," Parvarti said, heat creeping into her cheeks. "I don't think it's much my color."

"Anything is your color," Lavender said simply, and Parvarti blushed further. 

Lavender stared at her long and hard with narrowed eyes that thoroughly flustered Parvarti. "Let's see," Lavender wondered aloud. She stared at Parvarti with such utter concentration that Parvarti could not move, could not think. It was one of _those_ moments where you know something was going to happen – _is_ happening.

Lavender reached out, just one finger and touched it to the hollow of Parvarti's throat, and Parvarti gasped. "What are you doing?"

"Experimenting." Lavender stepped forward and moved her finger down, down till it settled at the neckline of Parvarti's v-neck tee. Parvarti's breathing had gone shallow, and Lavender was smiling as she leant forward and brushed her lips against Parvarti's. Parvarti, who was dull-witted in these types of moments, usually; but this was Lavender and she couldn't help but to pull her closer, arm around her waist, hands her hair and soon they were kissing, kissing like the world depended on it and all too soon Lavender was pulling away.

"Well," she said. "And here I thought you weren't interested in women."

"Um," Parvarti said. "I'm interested in you."

Lavender laughed delightedly. "How long?" 

Parvarti flushed deeply. "For as long as I can remember. Forever, it seems."

"If only I'd figured it out sooner," Lavender whispered, pressing a single kiss to Parvarti's still-wet mouth. 

And then she said the best thing Parvarti had ever heard: "But we have now. Let's go." And Parvarti didn't have to worry about awkwardness or maybes or "What does it all mean?" as Lavender Apparated them away to her bedroom, leaving the finished skirt on the table.

The only skirt Parvarti was worried about now was Lavender's.

*

The next morning, Parvarti awoke completely naked in soft sheets and saw a very naked Lavender   
running to the owl scratching at the window. Parvarti looked at the time and cursed. 11 o'clock. Fuck, after everything she was going to be fired anyway.

Parvarti sat up, covering herself strategically with the sheet.

The owl flew in and the red letter exploded and started screaming in Pansy's nasally high-pitched tones:

"I SHOULD HAVE BOTH OF YOUR ARSES ON A PLATTER FOR NOT BEING HERE ON TIME. LUCKILY FOR YOU, THE SKIRT WAS ACCEPTABLE, AND JACOB IS IMPRESSED. BOTH OF YOU, TAKE THE DAY TO PREPARE YOUR APOLOGIES. YOU ARE EXPECTED BRIGHT AND EARLY TOMORROW."

Parvarti and Lavender shared delighted grins. Parvarti flopped back on the bed, and Lavender joined her. "That bitch!" Lavender cackled. "She couldn't help but to love our work. She gave us a day off!" 

"How should we spend it?" Parvarti asked slyly.

Lavender tackled her and proceeded to show her just how.


End file.
